


Dead Cold

by MetMask



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crime, Drama, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/F, Forensic Pathologist Clarke, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, cop lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetMask/pseuds/MetMask
Summary: Lexa is a detective with a good record and a bad attitude, while Clarke is the new forensic pathologist on transfer from interstate.The pair get teamed up to work on the case of a high profile lawyer who's been brutally murdered, little does anyone know, that have a complicated history.





	Dead Cold

“For fuck sake! Lexa get back here!” Anya shouted from the doors of the auditorium, glaring at the back of the younger girls head. “You just left her alone in there? With them?” Her tone became lower as she stepped up behind the dark haired girl whose braids covered the back of her newly stained white dress shirt, her black jacket draped over her forearm. She wanted to sob or shout to loosen the building knot of emotion in her chest, but she closed her eyes tight and just allowed her body to grow comfortable to it. 

“Yeah. You heard Bellamy. He’ll take care of her.” Lexa spoke softly, eyes to the ground, focusing on the red splattered on her brand new tuxedo shoes. Her voice was every bit as empty and hopeless as you could expect of someone whose entire high school life has been plagued by nothing but intense bullying and trauma. And just now, when she has such a good thing? Roan and his goons have to go and fucking destroy everything. 

“Clarke deserves better, A.” She spoke softly after a few moments, which if you’d asked Anya would have actually been about 5 minutes. Anya shook her head with a bitter chuckle, moving her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she shook her head at the girl who had always been her best friend. 

“Yeah. Maybe she does.” 

\--

Lexa groaned loudly at the obnoxious ringing going off beside her head, rolling towards it and crying out when her forehead hit the wooden lip of her beside table. 

“Fuck you…” She grumbled softly in the phones direction, pushing herself into a sitting position on the edge of her queen bed, wiping a lazy hand down her face and rubbing her feet in the plush rug. As though insulted by Lexa’s gruffness, the ringing stopped and she let out a sigh of relief. She needed to shower, and needed a coffee. Anything to shove that damned dream out of her head. 

The fact that at this point in her life, Lexa chooses to acknowledge that night as a dream, more so than a traumatic memory, is immediately troubling. 

Before she managed to take two steps away from her bed she groans louder, the insistent ringing somehow seeming to return tenfold, abusing her eardrums. 

“Fine! Hello!” She answered shortly, knuckles white as she gripped the phone and listened to the buzzing voice on the other end, expression showing more agitated with every second that passed. 

“Okay, okay shut the fuck up.” She interrupted the talking impatiently, rubbing her temples. “Give me 15 minutes and I’ll be down there. Don’t let those fucking pathologists touch anything until I see the body with my own two eyes. Got it?” She didn’t wait for a response before hanging up and tossing the phone away onto the bed, stalking to shower.  


After pulling on her clothes and slipping her badge into her pocket she looked in the mirror, pulling her hair up into a tight ponytail and humming slightly. She was proud, if not slightly cocky, of the person she had grown to be. The scared, tortured girl had long since abandoned her in the police force, making way for the best young investigator to ever come through her departments doors. 

Her badge said it all; Detective Alexandra Woods, Special Crime Investigations.


End file.
